


Mercutio

by KieraKay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Marvel Norse Lore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mythology - Freeform, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraKay/pseuds/KieraKay
Summary: [Avengers: Infinity War] Odin rewards Loki for his honourable sacrifice. And while in Valhalla, the God of Mischief decides to have a little fun with the temporary gate guardian.





	1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thor Marvel comics, the movie franchise, or any of the characters from it. I do, however, own the plot and characters you don't recognize.

* * *

 

As Surtur drove his fiery sword through the heart of Asgard, there was a violent detonation of dark energy. The entire realm shook and split in two, and in an instant, the beautiful kingdom exploded into several thousand pieces. All was quiet for a few mournful moments, but then a new Asgard rose up from the sea, more lush and fruitful than it previously had been. And Líf and Lífþrasir emerged from Yggdrasil and awakened the green world again.

In Valhalla, standing before Valgrind, Inge prepared herself for the slain warriors' arrival. They were handpicked by the Valkyries and the All-Father himself. She was not given names, but an order to welcome the chosen heroes to their new home. They fought bravely against Hela and her army of the dead, and now began a new era for their people.

Royd the Noble Eagle emitted his mighty call as he flew over the golden hall. He circled round the western door and swooped down to tease his ancient friend who joined Inge at her side.

"Leave me be, you bloody bird!" Hrolleif griped, and he raised his giant paw and tried to swat him away. Royd cackled whilst he hovered just above his friend's reach. "Haven't you anything better to do than to pester me?"

"Oh, it's all in good jest, Hrolleif! Grow a sense of humor, would you?"

"I am in no mood for your juvenile games."

"Neither is the All-Father," Inge cautioned the animal pair. In truth, they were much older than Odin and even Asgard. They watched the very cosmos form, moment by moment, and were the first creatures to touch the earth. They helped build Valhalla and its brilliant glory from the ground up, and they've been guarding the gates ever since.

"I must remain on task," she said further, "I don't want to be fed to Huginn and Muninn."

Royd landed on her shoulder and stretched his wings to settle his ruffled feathers. "Odin only says so to ensure your diligence. And even if he does, you cannot die in Valhalla. You are only reborn. So need not to worry."

Hrolleif then scoffed. "If you continue to listen to him, child, you will surely end up being one of Hela's many slaves in Hel. Death would be much kinder to you." 

"I don't want either outcome," Inge quietly replied, and straightened her posture to look more formal and official in her long silver robe. She'd heard the stories of Odin's famed wrath—how it was swift and vengeful, and as unmerciful as a stroke from his spear. 

Hrolleif's rage was not any different. Some would say it rivalled Muspelheim. He could be course in speech and gruff with her, but Royd says he means well. The old wolf was simply still getting used to her presence among them.

"I am certain she will do fine, Hrolleif. Ignore him, Inge." Royd rubbed his head against her cheek. "Be natural and be welcoming."

She gave a silent nod of acknowledgment.

* * *

 

_"You... will never be... a god..."_

Death, true death— _real death_ —was much more painful than Loki had anticipated. He expected his life to pass before his eyes. It didn't. He had expected a grander victory. He wasn't given that either. Asgard was no more, Thanos had the Space Stone, and he disappointed his brother once again, more seriously than ever. Perhaps... just perhaps he deserved this unadulterated, barren black void. It was certainly better than spending an eternity in Hel with his equally deranged sister.

As Loki sunk deeper into the depths of nothingness, from above came a shaft of golden light. It was brilliant and coruscant, and soon a Valkyrie appeared before him and brought him a blissful repose. "Loki, Prince of Asgard, son of Odin, Odinson, you may not have died a glorious death in battle, but your act of selflessness is to be rewarded," she declared in a mighty voice. "The All-Father has deemed you worthy to enter the halls of Valhalla, where you shall dwell with the high gods and the fallen heroes of old. Do you accept the King’s offer? Do you wish for salvation?"

Anything to see his mother again.

"Y-Yes..." he croaked through his crushed windpipe. "Yes, I accept."

"Then come." The Valkyrie offered a slim, white hand, and the moment he took it, he felt himself ascending in an enormous rainbow of colors.

* * *

 

When the brightness dissipated and he opened his eyes, Loki was no longer floating in the black abyss of death. Instead, he found himself armored, healed, and standing in front of a woman holding a horn filled with mead. He must say, she was quite lovely to look at. Granted, she was staring at him as if he were a venomous snake ready to strike.

Her bushy locks were drawn back from her face, exposing the slender column of her neck. Her eyes were deep, animated, and passionate; her mouth shapely and full. Her complexion was darker than what was usually seen among the women in the palace—but there was a richness in its color, which contrasted well with the silver of her gown. 

"That wouldn't happen to be for me, would it?" Loki gestured to the horn in her hand whilst trying to charm her with his smile. Still, she remained frozen. Did she know who he was? What he had done? The full extent of his former crimes? The God of Mischief attempted something else. "May I at least have the honor of knowing the name of the beautiful maiden who greets me?"

She stared at him for another long moment, and then uttered a soft, "No."

Loki's smile grew broader. He sensed magic in her. Ancient magic. He always enjoyed a woman with a bit of fire. "Tell me, do you know who I am?" he inquired smoothly.

"No," she answered again, in the same honest tone. She all but thrust the horn into his hands. "Welcome to Valhalla."

He watched her hurry away up the path that led to the resplendent hall of Odin.

* * *

 

**Just testing the waters in this fandom. I watched Infinity War almost a few weeks ago and I'm still not emotionally ready to talk about it. Loki didn't need to go out like that.  
**

**Hope you like the prologue.  
**

**Love, Peace, and Tranquility.**


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thor Marvel comics, the movie franchise, or any of the characters from it. I do, however, own the plot and characters you don't recognize.

* * *

 

Inge pushed past a laughing cluster of Valkyrie, who she, quite belatedly, had realized witnessed the awful exchange. She hastened into the boisterous hall and didn't stop until she was hidden behind one of the tall, gold pillars near the shadows. As soon as Inge recovered from the excitement of her rash retreat, she covered her face with her hands.

Gods, she had just made a complete fool of herself. But that man... his eyes... his lonely green eyes. In them, she saw the core of his turmoil; saw his anger, his jealousy, his sadness, his loss, his grief. He was greatly different from the other warriors she had greeted today. Statuesque, strikingly out of place. Everything about him overwhelmed her, and her only reaction was to flee.

Suddenly, Inge heard the whirring of Royd's powerful wings as he flew into the hall and sat on his usual perch on her shoulder. "Oh dear... What went wrong?" he asked.

She lowered her hands, revealing her hot, flushed cheeks. "Too much," was all she said, all she could say at first. "The warrior... he carries a deep hurt within him. He is... very troubled."

"It is him over there? The tall, pale fellow hugging the Queen?"

"Hugging the Queen...?" Inge peered out from behind the pillar and followed Royd's gaze, catching sight of the tragic man enveloped in Frigga's tight embrace. Odin, surrounded by his Einherjar, not far from the pair, seemed to look on in approval. "Is he also from Old Asgard?"

"Yes," Royd replied. "He is their son. Well, one of them. The youngest. Caused quite a bit of mayhem in the Nine Realms."

"So he is no better than Hela and the All-Father? Are all of his children disturbed?" 

"One could say that," the eagle chuckled, preening his feathers. "However, it would not be advisable to let Odin hear you say it. I doubt Hrolleif would react kindly if any harm were to come to you by his hands. The King speaks highly of his eldest son. He is a hero to many. He saved Jotunheim and Midgard from his brother's madness."

She continued to study him with reticent fascination. What drives a person to such acts? Was he a monster like his nefarious sister? A murderer who reveled in the deaths of others? Or was his grief a part of some deeply veiled regret?

"You know, darling, it is very impolite to speak of someone behind their back. Especially considering I still know nothing of you."

Her face blanched in an instant. She might have thought such a thing impossible if it were not for the traces of magic shimmering in the air. Inge was staring right at the Prince when his cunning words sounded in her ear, and neither he nor his lips had moved.

She whirled around and came face-to-face with his duplicate. It gave her sly grin.

"What's even more 'impolite'," Royd intervened, "is eavesdropping on a private conversation." 

The illusion chuckled. "You must be one of the creatures who guard this place. My father has told my brother and I stories of you and the Great Wolf when we were young."

Inge spoke up, "You know magic."

"As do you," it replied, with a shallow bow from the hip. Even his illusion's proximity was dizzying. Far too close, far too intimate for her level of comfort.

She eased a step back to regain control of the encounter. "I am sorry, Your Highness, but we must go. Our apologies for speaking ill of you and your family."

"Perhaps you could make it up to me by finally telling me your name."

Her name was sacred to her, only Hrolleif and Royd knew of it. She protected it at all costs. " _Ingrid_. You may call me Ingrid."

* * *

 

Loki dispelled his illusion when he felt Frigga's gentle touch on his arm. With her comfort came his guilt, the weighing guilt of a man who was responsible for his own mother's death. And he had blamed Thor, and his father, and all who he believed had crossed, slighted, or opposed him in some way. It was easier to blame them, to be angry with them, than to admit that it was entirely his fault. He might as well had driven the sword through her himself.

Loki met his mother's compassionate gaze with endless apologies on his tongue, but her face softened in understanding, so there was no need to say anything. He was well aware he did not deserve her forgiveness. He deserved her scorn and her condemnation for all the pain he caused. Yet, his eyes burned as he placed his hand upon hers, and cracked the barest of smiles. 

Squeezing his arm, Frigga said to him, "Come with me, I want to show you something."

Instinctively, he cast a glance at Odin, who nodded them onward from behind his goblet.

Their relationship was far from mended. Loki had hurt his father, their family more times than he betrayed Thor. A part of him still held onto the anger and the rage of being lied to. It gave his life purpose and determination, and he feared that if he let it go, then he would have nothing. So from now, he would give his father space, and cling to what was comforting and fulfilling. 

He just hoped his brother was all right.

* * *

 

Crossing the great hall, Frigga paused to exchange pleasantries with a small group of Valkyries who were strolling toward the training yard. Thor had once told Loki that they often favored the company of mortal heroes and mortal men. Such a shame it was, like his brother, preferring human frailty over real power. The women wandered away, chatting animatedly, whilst he followed his mother down a torch-lit corridor.

"When your father told me you were coming to Valhalla, I insisted he had this prepared for you."

She led him to a wooden door with Huginn and Muninn carved into its surface. With a flick of her wrist, it shuddered and slid open, revealing a decent-sized library. Large well-filled bookcases lined the walls of the upper and lower floor, and on their fourteen shelves lay hundreds of leather-bound works of literature. A spiral staircase stood to the left of him, and a pleasant window behind it, which looked out upon Valgrind. It was a room that spoke of fine taste, combined with domestic comfort. Loki could possibly envision himself spending most of his days in here.

"Is it to your liking?" His mother queried gingerly, fiddling with her hands. "It's not quite finished, but you may still use it. It has all of your favorite books, including some of my own."

He moved deeper into the room, running his fingers over the weathered writing desk. The more she spoke, the worse he felt. To continue to love him so unconditionally, after... what he told her before her horrible death.

_"Am I not your mother?"_

_"You're not."_

Loki banished the memory to the deepest recesses of his mind. "This will suffice." He turned back to Frigga and saw that there were tears brimming in her eyes. Then he stiffened his jaw to keep himself composed.

"What you and your brother endured..." Her voice quivered with emotion. "I can only imagine what it was like. I am sorry I could not be there with you. Oh, my son... I am so terribly, utterly sorry."

Without hesitation, he went to his mother and took her into his arms as she openly wept. "I'm all right now, Mother. I'm all right." Loki was far from it. "And I assure you Thor is all right. He is fighting for all of us now."

"Yes, I mustn't lose hope so easily." Frigga lifted her head and wiped away her tears. "I must keep up my spirits with joyful thoughts, like how you have made your father and I very proud."

And still, his triumph felt hollow, his sense of achievement tangled with bitterness and fear. He left Thor to face Thanos and the Black Order alone. There was no telling what kinds of torture they were putting him through. Loki would not forgive himself if his brother did not survive it.

He wanted his last words to him to be true.

* * *

 

**Thank you for the kudos last chapter. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. I hope you like this one!**

**Love, Peace, and Tranquility.**


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thor Marvel comics, the movie franchise, or any of the characters from it. I do, however, own the plot and characters you don't recognize.

* * *

 

Inge did not sleep at all that night. 

The vision of the Prince was constantly before her eyes, and somewhere far, she felt a dark force looming over the cosmos. At earliest dawn, she rose and meditated under Yggdrasil's branches, while Ratatoskr scurried up and down its trunk. One of these days his fate might be decided, and by Odin's beard, she would not get involved.

"Ingrid. Ingrid."

Inge's eyes snapped open when Mist gently poked her shoulder. She blinked against the early morning light reflecting off the Valkyrie's swan-feathered gown. It matched her hair that she wore in a long plaited braid, tied at the nape of her neck with a pink silk ribbon. Inge hastily collected herself and then offered the other woman a small, cordial smile. "May I help you?"

"Your presence has been requested by the All-Father in the throne room," Mist announced.

"Has something happened?" She immediately clambered to her feet.

"He said he wanted to speak with you and nothing more."

"Oh—then I'll be there in a moment." 

With a nod, Mist turned on her heel and strode back to the hall. 

Maybe Odin felt the disturbance too, whatever it was. 

Summoning her magic, Inge refreshed herself, her nightwear replaced by a rust orange dress. She smoothed it down over her hips, then pulled her shoulders back and headed in the same direction as Mist. When she was ushered into the throne room, Odin's father was also present, along with Hrolleif, Heimdall, and the Prince. Inge bowed before them, and awaited for the King's next command, hoping she did not come across as too stiff.

"You can feel it, can't you, girl? The chaos descending upon the Nine Realms." Bor sipped from a golden goblet, which was nearly dwarfed in his large hand.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Something malevolent is approaching."

"Well,  _they_ are already here," the All-Father revealed with quiet tension. "I want to see the last 24 hours. Thor Odinson is my son's name."

Inge nodded, then stretched out a hand in front of her. Beside Heimdall, the Prince scrutinized her with sudden interest. She willed her looking glass to appear and recited the incantation in the lost tongue of Odin, " _Thor Odinson_."

Her senses expanded as the mirror spun above her palm. Indigo rings of mystical energy began to swirl around it. The brilliance formed and grew until it was an immense sphere of light. Then she was thrust back into Thor's past, and through his eyes, she witnessed the violent flow of events.

_Sakaar._

_The final battle on Asgard._

_Ragnarok._

_Thanos and the Black Order._

_More bloodshed._

_Heimdall's death._

_Thor and... **Loki...**_

Something deep inside Inge cried out as she watched him die the most painful death. It rattled her in a way she had not imagined. Her hand shook from its intensity, from Thor's helpless anguish bursting from his heart. She fought to keep control of the projection, but she felt it slipping beyond her grasp.

**_SNAP!_ **

"No!" she screamed aloud. The sphere blazed angry red before the image shattered and disappeared. Her knees weakened, and she would have collapsed had Hrolleif not have leapt to her aid. He held Inge upright while she found her footing. "Forgive me, All-Father, I can—"

Odin struck Gungnir upon the ground to silence the rest of her plea. "I've seen enough."

The Prince seemed to as well; he was no longer looking at her, making every effort to avoid her gaze.

"Take Loki and show him around Valhalla," the King went on in the same controlled tone. "Then return to Valgrind once you're finished."

Still reeling from Thor's visceral memory, Inge forced herself to bow once more. "Yes, All-Father."

This was not how she pictured the start of her morning.

* * *

 

Loki followed Ingrid out of the throne room, adjusting his collar as though he were reliving his death. 

Thor's suffering was unnerving to watch, but Ingrid's reaction... She had shown vulnerability, her magic called to him, without her even realizing it. Many would have rejoiced if they were in her position. Her objection surprised him.

"Perhaps we should start outside," Ingrid quietly proposed. "Some fresh air would be good."

"Is this what my father has you doing here? Giving tours to the dead?" It came out terser than he'd intended. Her shoulders went taut, and Loki inwardly cringed at the inanity of his question.

"I'm simply following orders. My duty is to protect Valhalla and those in it," she responded, so rehearsed. So trained.

"Well, I don't need your 'protection'. I'm very much capable of holding my own."

"Yet, here you are." Ingrid came to a shuddering halt, just before they reached the outside grounds. Her body looked so rigid. He thought she might shatter at the slightest touch. "That was crass of me to say. I apologize."

A laugh slipped from him. Loki couldn't help himself. Technically, she wasn't wrong in her observation. "Trust me, darling, the irony is not lost on me." If it were anyone else pointing out the obvious, he would not have been as overly kind with his reply.

"Still..." She peeked at him over one smooth brown shoulder. "I have no right to judge you."

"It wouldn't be the first time someone has."

Ingrid averted her gaze elsewhere. "I'll show you the training yard first."

"Actually, I'm feeling to go to the mead hall." He had not eaten since arriving in Valhalla. His mother had invited him to the welcoming feast yesterday, but his stomach was in all sorts of knots. Besides, he could use this as an opportunity to learn more about Ingrid, gather information. She wasn't a Valkyrie, she didn't have the markings like Scrapper 142, but she was interesting enough to hold his attention. Secure him from tedium at least.

"Haven't you already been there before...?"

"Yes, and I would very much appreciate if you would accompany me to breakfast."

Her eyes flew back to his, and Loki smiled as she gaped at him. "The... The All-Father wanted me to—"

"I'm well aware of what my father said," he silkily interposed. "But I still need sustenance in meantime. You don't want me collapsing from hunger, do you? I don't think your king would particularly enjoy hearing of your negligence, especially of his son."

Ingrid seemed to consider his words a moment before her features settled into a semblance of calm. "Then we should go."

"Marvellous." Loki clapped his hands together.  "Please, after you."

* * *

 

Awareness buzzed along Inge's nerves like uncomfortable pins. She should have been firmer with him and just declined his invitation outright. It was difficult to look at Loki after all she had seen, after everything she had felt. And if what Royd told her was true, then the Prince did not need her sympathy.

"Is that all you're having?" Loki tilted his head at the apple she was currently peeling.

Inge nearly pierced her thumb with her dagger. She hoped he hadn't noticed. "It's... mostly meat they have here, and I don't partake in eating animals. I choose not to, out of respect."

"Out of respect for whom?" He primly sipped more of his stew.

"Out of respect for the Noble Eagle and the Great Wolf." She finished peeling her apple and slipped a slice between her lips. "They are... my friends. So it doesn't feel right to me."

"Interesting. How long has it been since you've come to Valhalla?"

"Not long." Glancing away, Inge noticed the Valkyries from yesterday. They were looking at them, chattering and whispering amongst themselves. She returned her gaze to the table. "The All-Father says I have much to learn."

"My father says a lot of things," Loki flippantly replied.

Inge was uncertain of how to respond to his remark, so she cut another apple slice in silence. She already revealed more than she had resolved to. And she could not for the life of her understand why.

"You're not much of a conversationalist, are you?"

"I mean no offense, but I talk to those who I am comfortable with."

A devilish smirk lifted a corner of Loki's mouth. "Hmm. Then I suppose you won't grant me the courtesy of telling me which realm you call claim to."

"No, I won't."

"What if I commanded you to tell me, as your royal prince?" 

Inge raised her chin to show her strength. "I only answer to the King and the Queen, and no one else. So eventually, Your Highness, I will have to return to my duty."

Their gazes clashed and held, and his demeanor goaded her, but she refused to fall trap to his provocation. Then Loki's expression suddenly lightened, and he dropped his spoon into his unfinished stew. "I'm ready whenever you are, darling."

She wished he wouldn't address her as such.

She didn't like how it made her feel.

* * *

 

Ingrid stood firm in her word and her convictions. Loki couldn't pry any more out of her. Not once did her guard slip, and he couldn't fault her for wariness. She'd witnessed his most undignified moment, and they barely knew one another for a day. He doubted she would warm his bed any time soon. 

As her tour ended, Loki let his eyes drift down the curves of Ingrid's body. Then he started to wonder how she sounded in the throes of passion. That feverish curiosity stayed with him well after they parted ways for the morning, and he sat by the window in his library and studied her from afar. Why was she, out of all the warriors in Valhalla, entrusted with such a great task? Yes, the power of her magic was impressive, however, what other little talents did she possess? What made her an acceptable choice in his father's eye? 

He could always ask his mother for an explanation, but where was the mischief in that? Loki wanted to be the one to unravel her secrets. To discover what made her tick. 

And soon he fell into a routine, a routine of many mornings he would convince her to have breakfast with him. It was harmless manipulation. Ingrid was, again, adamant at first. Eventually she relented, defeated by his magnetism and skills of persuasion. 

She still wasn't forthcoming about her nature and her history until one morning she asked him, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Loki set down his mead and gave her his full attention, whilst Ingrid paused peeling her orange in a perfect spiral. 

"Your crimes," she murmured. "The things you tried to do."

"What were these  _things_  I presume were told to you?"

"You tried to enslave the people of Midgard, nearly drove the Frost Giants to the brink of extinction. You've... taken the lives of the innocent. Did you feel even a twinge of conscience?"

Ah, the opening Loki was waiting for. He had noticed her wrestling with something for the past few days. "Do you truly want to know?"

It took her a short moment to answer, "Yes."

"All right. On one condition."

Ingrid stared at him expectantly.

"You must tell me one thing about yourself in exchange for my candor. And nothing boring," he emphasized. "I would rather not hear about which fruits you prefer."

"I guess that sounds fair."

Removing the linen napkin from his lap, Loki folded it neatly before placing it on the table. "Then, to answer your inquisitiveness: I was merely doing what I felt needed to be done. My actions were justified."

"And you honestly believe what you are speaking?" Her deep brown eyes sharpened like knives. "Such terror cannot be a justifiable act."

She wasn't this brazen before, so candidly bold. What changed between now and then? "I believe it's your turn to hold up your end of the bargain."

"It would seem so." Ingrid began peeling her orange again. "Well, one thing about me; all I need is to know your name and I can see anything I want about you. The life you've lived, the torment you keep caged inside, everything in vivid detail."

"That's right. You have a fascinating ability. You must be a witch."

"I am no witch. I can only see one's past, not the future."

"So your magic has limitations?"

A ghost of a smile flitted over her features as she ate an orange slice. "Do not make an enemy out of me, Your Highness."

Loki's expression mimicked hers. "My darling, I wouldn't dream of it. Those days are a thing of my past," he jested. Aside from his mother, Ingrid was the only one who would converse with him. Without Thor, he had no presence of his own. He was simply Odin's son. Not even Sif or the Warriors Three would acknowledge him, unless it was in front of his mother. Apparently he still wasn't forgiven by them yet.

"I must go." Ingrid wrapped up the other half of her orange and rose from the table. "Enjoy the rest of your morning."

"Will you be joining me again tomorrow?" he called after her retreating form. She then stopped and turned back toward him. Her face had become indecipherable.

 _"No,"_  her voice thrummed inside his mind.  _"I believe it would be best, as far as concerns Valhalla, if you kept your distance. I cannot afford to be distracted."_

* * *

 

**Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter!**

**Love, Peace, and Tranquility.**


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